


Deeper Than Skin

by PaperhatsAndEvilSchemes



Series: Paperhat? I'm Down For That [4]
Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, tw: child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 11:24:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11554197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperhatsAndEvilSchemes/pseuds/PaperhatsAndEvilSchemes
Summary: Alternatively titled: Wow for a bunch of heroes you guys can be real jackasses sometimes





	Deeper Than Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Author can be more easily reached and posts updates more frequently on their tumblr: https://paperhats-and-evil-schemes.tumblr.com/

Dr.Flug has always had a large bull’s-eye painted on his back since joining Blackhat. For one, he’s vital to the success of the most accomplished villain merchandise organization in the world. And on top of that, he’s  _known_  for his timorousness, whereas Blackhat is known for savagery and prowess in battle. In short, he makes a far easier target in comparison. Who wouldn’t take advantage of that?

But it’s not like the Black Hat Organization went out of their way to seek out fights with eager heroes. Quite the opposite, actually. In Blackhat’s eyes, they are but insignificant little pests that need contamination. His business is dedicated to their extermination and all sorts of anti-hero merchandise, after all.

His raw disdain for their type was evident in every way. Though that’s not to say he didn’t find other villains annoying, either. He  _did_  hold more respect for them in comparison to heroes of course, more common interests and all, but they were just…  _below_  him. Inferior.  _And_ annoying to talk to. Which is why he liked to bring Flug to deals regarding their products outside of the manor, so that he could do most of the talking.

On one such day, Flug had just been wrapping up a sale with one of their regulars, an eccentric red-coated man with a tacky mustache and a severe hedgehog problem. Frankly, Blackhat thought this customer was an insufferable idiot. So while he and Flug were going over payments at their rendezvous point,  a secluded wreck of an abandoned house, Blackhat felt his time was better spent elsewhere and left momentarily to run a quick errand.

“Y-You  _do_ know that we could just supply you with some of our own anti-hero products rather than just the parts to build your own, right?” Flug commented as he loaded the last of the machine parts onto the man’s flight device. “I-I mean no offense, but your inventions don’t seem to be, um, working for you…”

“ _This_ time it will!” The other villain exclaimed. “I have the  _perfect_ plan to trick those infernal rodents into upgrading my defense systems!  _With their own technology!_ ” He laughed smugly.

“… Uuuh-huuuh…” Flug mumbled slowly and disbelievingly, flipping through a clipboard. If it’s a defense upgrade he  _wants_ , why doesn’t he just order  _that_ instead and be done with it? Well, if he wants to waste his own money, he can go right ahead. “Sign here, please.”

“And the mootonium I ordered?” He inquired after signing.

“For the last time, it is not ’ _mootonium’!_ ” Flug snapped exasperatedly, carefully pulling a small, tightly-sealed briefcase out of his labcoat. Why must this man continuously make a mockery of science? “It is a  _very_ intricately designed,  _extremely_ _explosive_ radioactive compound that can-  _Yeep!_ ”  He cut himself off with a yelp and flinched back as the larger man whisked the case away from him none too carefully.

“-destroy everything within a 20-mile radius,  _I know_. You’ve only  _said_ it a  _billion_ times.” The man snapped back, pulling the case close to himself. “It’s all a part of my master plan! I call it…  _Operation Cowbot._ Would you like to hear about it?” Before even waiting for an answer, the other scientist started to drone on and on about his needlessly complicated ‘plot’, if you could call it that.

“Riiight… Uhh… Interesting…” Flug commented flatly, seeming anything  _but_ interested. “You know, maybe you should try  _not_ broadcasting your motivations for all to hear, but hey, what do I know…” His eyes then flicked to the splintered door before falling on the taller man again. “Well, uh, I should really go catch up with my boss…” He muttered, really just trying to find an excuse to leave.

“So soon? But we were just getting to the good par–” The customer’s protest was cut short as a great force of wind effortlessly ripped the roof off of the old rickety house.

Flug shielded his eyes from the bright flash of fire that came next - though the house wasn’t set ablaze, there was now a rather intimidating-looking hero hovering above the hole on a swirl of flames and wind. He was dressed in an all-black outfit that concealed every inch of skin, the only splash of color being the red gloves, shoes, and scarf.

“Oh  _great_ …” Flug uttered, taking a step back. He recognized this hero as Firewhirl, a particularly strong lone wolf hero. Also a complete hardass, from what he’s heard.

Flug’s customer was all too quick to hop onto his flying contraption. “You’ll never take me alive!” He barked, an unmistakable hint of uncertainty in his voice, but he took to the air nonetheless.

“I’m not here for  _you_ , egghead.” The hero retorted coolly, keeping his focus on Flug.

“You’re _not?_ ” He replied in relieved surprise. Then he followed his gaze to Flug. “Well in  _that_  case… So long, sucker!”

Flug expected for him to escape the first chance he got, sure. But when a cannon popped out of the machine, Flug’s eyes went wide. “Wait, what are you–!?”

_Boom!_

The asshole shot an explosive at Flug, sending him spiraling through the door and falling hard in the yard outside. Using the smoke produced by the explosion as extra cover, the man started getting away.

Even though Firewhirl’s objective here was to apprehend Flug, that was just a dirty move he couldn’t let slide. He whipped around to shoot a fireball at the fleeing villain, only to have his attack intercepted by a blast of red energy from Flug.

The doctor had whipped out an attack ray, shaking slightly as he held it aimed for Firewhirl. Degrading as it was to help the one that just attacked him flee, Flug wasn’t willing to have that radioactive compound in his possession go off because of some trigger-happy pyromaniac and kill them all.

Firewhirl’s eyes narrowed, focusing on Flug again. “Fine, if that’s how you want to play it…” With a wave of his arm, his black outfit suddenly lit up in an array of glowing orange-yellow-red fiery patterns, and a whirling gust of hot wind ripped towards Flug.

Flug rolled to the side, just avoiding the brunt of the attack. He tried to shoot again, only to find that the hero was now enveloped in a tornado of fire, nullifying the beam.

Flug, despite having become a little more confident with hero confrontations since Greased Lightning, was starting to succumb to panic. Shakily, he reached into his coat for something,  _anything_ , that could be more useful - but Firewhirl reacted quicker, another gale of sharp wind being shot at Flug, this time tearing through his paper bag and ripping it clean off, goggles falling with it.

“No…!” The doctor gasped, trying to reach for the bag, but he was knocked back by another rough gust.

Firewhirl slowly descended from his blazing pinnacle, contained white flames licking beneath his feet with each step. Though perhaps not intentionally, the hero treaded on top of the bag and goggles in his path, reducing them to ash in a split second and blowing them away.

The doctor was more horrified at  _that_ than the approaching hero himself, cupping a hand over his mouth as a sob escaped it.

“I’m going to have to take you in, doctor.” Firewhirl stated, reaching into his scarf and pulling out a pair of handcuffs that were being kept there.

Flug didn’t respond. Rather, he  _couldn’t_ respond. He felt like everything around him was swirling all of a sudden, a heaviness weighed down his chest, racking shudders shook his body, limbs starting to feel tingly, and worst of all, he felt as though he were going to suffocate. Feeling as though his body was going to completely shut down, the doctor hid his face in his hands, eyes squeezed shut, and sobbed weak, broken words of dismay. It was as if a switch had been flipped and the world began caving in around him.

Firewhirl leaned down, reaching out to apply the cuffs, and then-

-it happened so fast. Out of nowhere, a blur of black shot directly into the hero, completely blindsiding him and knocking him over.  

With unsheathed claws, Blackhat relentlessly slashed at his opponent as they rolled across the ground, a spectral roar clearly conveying the demon’s sheer rage. Firewhirl countered Blackhat’s attacks with a sudden burst of flames, escaping from his grip.

But that was only momentary.

As the hero took to the air with a gust of wind and blew out of the demon’s immediate reach, Blackhat’s eyes flashed red and an array of slick black-green tentacles burst from his back, lined with hook-like teeth. One of the tentacles lashed out at the flying man only to recoil in pain as a searing flame was shot at it. But then a feral grin stretched across Blackhat’s face.

As Firewhirl was preoccupied with the primary tentacle, two more of the appendages snaked around the hero’s waist, catching him off guard, and slammed him into the ground.

The eldritch wasted no time in completely enveloping the hero’s body in tentacles, strangling him into a wrangled pulp before tossing him aside like last week’s garbage. Blackhat wasn’t usually the type to end his opponents quickly - usually there was more torture and blood involved, taunting, teasing, the whole shebang,  _and that man did not deserve any **less**_ \- but there was no time for that. He  _had_ to check on Flug. Right away.

And the doctor wasn’t doing so well, either.

At this point, Flug was shaking like a leaf, pulse going wild and hyperventilating almost to the point of passing out, it seemed. All color was drained from his face, aside from a tint of blue that was starting to show around his mouth. Lack of oxygen, probably.

As Blackhat knelt down next to him, the weak scientist shrunk away panickedly. His black-and-white eyes were glassy and far away, his words a mindless slur. “No– n-no– Don’–Don’ hurt m-me– I-I-I’m s-sorr–sorry–!”

Seeing Flug come a little unglued was nothing particularly new to the demon… to an extent. He’s never seen a panic attack  _this_ bad. What is he supposed to  _do_ in a situation like this?

“Damn it Flug, I’m not going to  _hurt_ you!” Blackhat hissed in frustration. He tried to reach out to the souleater, but hesitated when he flinched back in response.

“It’s g-gone, it’s gone– She’s going to- She-” The doctor let out a sickly wheeze, each word an obvious struggle, yet whatever all the panic was for was still unclear. “I-I  di-didn’t m-mean t-to take it o-off— t-t-to l-lose it– I-I didn’t–” He choked, eyes squeezing shut, “ _Oh God it’s gone she’s going to hurt me I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to–_ ”

'She’? What is he  _talking_ about?

“ _ **Snap out of it,**  you bloody  **moron**! It’s  **not real!**_ ” Blackhat barked, his own frustration and panic growing alongside Flug’s delusional fears. Words didn’t seem to be reaching his employee, but the last time he forced  _physical_ contact didn’t go so well, so what is he  _supposed to **do?**_  The demon  _hated_ not having control over the situation like he usually does, and Flug’s delirious state was only worsening. If this keeps up…

…….. Well, he didn’t want to have to do this, but…desperate times call for desperate measures.

The tentacles rose again from Blackhat’s back, teeth retracted this time, and pulled the doctor close, the demon wrapping his arms tightly around him. He could feel Flug’s heart racing at a pace that no creature should be able to endure. “It’s  _not real_ , Flug! Whatever you’re seeing, it’s  _not real!_ ”

The doctor’s first instinct was to pull away, but he soon found that was pointless. Instead, he resorted to continued pleading through his struggle for air. “Please don’t hurt me,” He sobbed weakly, “I do- I don’t want to d-die-”

“ _Nobody’s going to hurt you_.” Blackhat insisted more calmly, but still firm. “You’re  _not_ going to  _die_.” Very lightly, Blackhat found himself stroking the scientist’s head comfortingly, brushing his fingers through his soft brown hair. “ _Breathe_ , doctor… You need to  _breathe_ …” The demon took a very deliberate, deep breath. “ _In_ …” Then an exhale just as slow and steady. “And out… In…” He inhaled again, “… and out…”

Blackhat repeated the process until Flug’s respiration pattern started to imitate his. It felt like an eternity, but finally the scientist’s breathing was becoming steady. Good, it’s about time. At least  _now_ he won’t suffocate himself. As for his mental state, that still seemed to be in shambles at the moment… On the bright side, he wasn’t rambling on about dying anymore, but the anxiety-filled incomprehensible gibberish that replaced it went to show that Flug was still far from calmed.

Gently stroking the doctor’s hair still, an idea came to Blackhat’s mind. One arm still holding on to Flug, he removed the top hat on his head and placed it on Flug’s, leaving a smaller hat on his own. It was no paper bag, and it didn’t hide much of his face, but maybe just having  _something_ on his head will help…?

Luckily, it seemed to. Slowly but surely, Flug’s stream of stressed babble ceased to a stop.

All was still. All was quiet.

Huh… At least this whole 'calming him down’ thing seemed to be working  _so_ far… beginner’s luck on Blackhat’s part, this was nothing he’s ever done before…

“You see?” Blackhat sighed quietly, just relieved the scientist was finally coming around, and a touch of triumph sneaking into his expression at having successfully brought Flug away from the brink of complete mental shutdown. He continued to run his fingers delicately through the souleater’s hair. “You’re alright…”

After another few moments, the eldritch started to move away to stand up again, but stopped when he felt Flug move in turn.  

With the little control Flug  _did_ have over his limbs, he weakly wrapped his shaking arms around Blackhat, burying his face in the demon’s shoulder. Eyes shut tight, he failed to fight back the tears beginning to stream down his face. The doctor tried to say something, but all that came out was a broken sob.

Sigh. And here Blackhat thought he was at last done with being… ugh…  _reassuring_ today… With another sigh, he adjusted his position to better hug him again. “Shh, shhh…” He hushed, unconsciously leaning into Flug’s embrace, “There’s no need for that… Erm…” The demon, in a hesitant and awkward manner, gave Flug’s back a couple of slow pats. “There there…??”

Flug’s crying didn’t stop. He only held on tighter.

Hnnnn. Fine, be that way. With a passive sigh, his boss once again went back to slowly running his fingers through Flug’s hair. “Shhh…” He repeated softly, placing a light kiss on his shoulder.

Damn it all. Why did Blackhat have to fall for someone so  _damaged?_

Looking over Flug with an analytical gaze, the eldritch was quiet for some time.

…… Well…… Flug was  _worth_ the trouble, he supposed…….

 

They must have looked strange to any bystanders on the walk back home, Blackhat holding the doctor close with one arm and half his coat wrapped around Flug’s shoulder, Flug staring directly at the ground as the demon guided him, doing everything he could to keep his face hidden with the brim of that top hat…But Blackhat couldn’t care less if they appeared strange. Anyone caught staring can simply get a taste of his heat vision for all he cares.

 

“What kind of an  _imbecile_ do you have to be to  _allow_ that to happen to yourself?”  

Blackhat had just finished rummaging through all the drawers of the house, looking for any paper bags he could find, and was now at his desk cutting eye holes in the bunch he’s compiled with one hand shapeshifted into scissors. Flug was sitting in a chair across the desk from him, looking down to the ground. Thankfully, Blackhat had one spare set of goggles stored away for Flug and didn’t take long in getting them along with a replacement bag for him. Not so thankfully, the demon was now in venting-frustrations mode, all the kindness from before seeming to be replaced with stinging acidity. He could only stand being - gag -  _nice_ \- for so long, after all. And now that his employee was back to his regular self, the supervillain seemed to have no problems with expressing his displeasure.

“You’re  _damn_ lucky I was  _sensible_ enough to have a spare pair of your goggles stored away, unlike  _somebody_.” Blackhat let out a low growl, fangs bared, but did not once look Flug’s way as he continued to snip. “Who goes around relying on something as flimsy as a  _dumb paper bag_  to keep themselves from  _mentally breaking down in the middle of the **streets**_ and doesn’t carry  _spares?_  You certainly seem to have the room in your  _coat_ for it– Oh, and that’s  _another_  thing!” Roughly slamming one paper bag down as he was finished with it and reaching for another, he didn’t notice Flug flinch as he continued with his rant. “You apparently have room for  _guns_ and bloody  _radioactive explosives_  in huge  _briefcases_ \- how the  _Hell_ , by the way- your pockets must be  _infinite_ \- but you don’t think to keep something so simple as an  _extra bag or two_  with you!? And you didn’t even have a  _useful_ form of self-defense! Lots of good that stupid _laser pointer_  did you! For a _genius,_  you can be _pretty damned stupid_ –”

“I’m sorry, mister Blackhat…”

Flug’s voice was barely even a whisper, but it was enough to get Blackhat to pause. Finally giving the doctor a glance, he could see that Flug appeared to be trembling slightly. If the slumped shoulders of self-disappointment and his empty stare to the floor wasn’t enough to get Blackhat to back off, the exhaustion and severe shame heavily weighing down Flug’s voice certainly made his boss think twice about going on with his rant.

A twinge of guilt flickered inside him. Ah, guilt. The  _one_ weapon Flug was surprisingly adept at using against the demon, damn him. With a sigh, Blackhat decided the doctor must feel bad enough as is and ceased his scolding. Looking away, his scissored hand returned to its natural shape, and he neatly piled the bags on his desk. “It will take some days before your spare sets of prescription goggles I ordered are delivered, so don’t go  _breaking_ those ones.” He commented, anger that was in his voice from before quickly fizzling out. “Until then, these are better than nothing.” The eldritch walked around the desk and stood next to Flug, dropping the bags in his lap. “I expect you to have at least two extras on hand at all times, is that understood?”

Flug awkwardly fumbled with the paper bags as he tucked them into his coat, mumbling something that Blackhat could only assume was along the lines of a 'thank you’ and another apology. Clearing his throat, Flug tried to make himself more audible with his next words. “I-I-If that’s e-everything, sir, I-I s-should get b-back t-to work…” He started to stand, but his boss pressed down on his shoulder to keep him seated.

“I’m not done with you yet.” The eldritch said flatly.

“O-Oh…” Flug looked down again. “S-S-Sorry…”

Blackhat didn’t pay the apology much mind. He’s said that three times now, it’s getting tiring. The demon leaned against his desk, arms folded. A long moment passed where Blackhat simply stared at the doctor, expression completely unreadable. Flug squirmed a tiny bit under his gaze, but did not look up.

“….. Why must you wear that, Flug?” Blackhat sighed in a low voice, the look on his face softening with confused concern.

Flug flinched. Shrinking down slightly in his chair, the doctor fiddled with the cuffs of his labcoat. “M-My eyes are j-just too, uh, too light-s-sensitive, that’s all–”

“ _Bah_.” Blackhat cut him off, eyes narrowing. “Just because I’m no scientist doesn’t mean I’m an  _idiot_.”

“I-I would  _never_ imply that, sir…!” Flug replied immediately, making eye contact for the first time since they got home.

Crossing one leg over the other, Blackhat looked down his nonexistent nose at the doctor. “Then tell me the  _truth!_  Just being 'light sensitive’ doesn’t end up with… whatever  _that_ was!” He made an idle gesture with one hand, not directed at anything, but he was clearly referencing Flug’s earlier breakdown. “You thought you were going to  _die_ , Flug! That some presence that wasn’t even there was going to  _hurt_ you!” With an exasperated sigh, the demon’s face twisted with a sort of… sad frustration. “I’m just… I’m just trying to  _understand_ …” He said, less firmly. Not knowing what was going on back there was troubling Blackhat more than he could explain for some reason, and he was evidently struggling very much to make sense out of it.

Flug gave a slow blink before looking down again. He… struggled to find the  _words_ to make sense of this for someone like…well,  _Blackhat_ …. but that seemed like an impossible mission. No matter what way he played the discussion back in his head, Flug was certain that the demon would find his reasoning stupid. Pathetic. Cowardly. Among other things. And he wasn’t in the mood to be his boss’s target of ridicule right now. With a disheartened sigh, Flug shook his head. “…Y-You wouldn’t g-get it.”

Blackhat, in turn, returned the slow blink.

So… Flug has admitted there’s  _indeed_ a different reason, but… won’t say it.  Leaning back, he crossed his arms again, giving Flug an analytical stare. This is going to be one of those gross touchy subjects that Blackhat would have to be “careful” with, wasn’t it. Ugh, what a bother. Well, if he really wants the scientist to spill the beans… “Try me.”

Still, Flug was unspeaking for some time. Blackhat really isn’t going to let this go, is he.

Deciding there was no point in prolonging the inevitable, Flug took a deep, defeated breath and put his face in his hands. Might as well get this over with. “… My… My mother…” Before he could even begin, he had already trailed off.

“Ah yes, the one you ate.” Blackhat recalled the doctor mentioning that to him, and perhaps he looked a tad too pleased with the horrible sentence he just spoke, grin plastered across his face for a moment.

Already off to a bad start. The look of upset he got from Flug told him as much. Sigh. Sensitive little half-human, no fun at all… In any case, Blackhat dropped the smile. “… Apologies.” He finally said, albeit with just a  _hint_ of reluctance. “Please, go on.”

Flug looked away, again hesitant. “…. I….um…W-Well, it…” Once more, he trailed off before much could even be said.

Hmph. Clearly this is going to take some prompting. “I assume your mother wasn’t a fan of your 'souleater tendencies’.” Blackhat guessed, quirking an eyebrow and clearly expecting Flug to confirm the assumption.

Hit the nail on the head with that one. Flug shifted slightly in his chair, absentmindedly rubbing his arm. “… N-Not really, no…” He confirmed. “S-She, um… wanted me to be… y-you know.  _Human_.” Almost unconsciously, the doctor’s hand lifted to the edge of his bag. “B-But, well… m-my face isn’t e-exactly…  _n-normal,_  so…”

“So she improvised.” Blackhat concluded simply. Honestly, there was a part of this that he found funny. How comical, taking the paper-bag-over-head saying so literally. But he dared not ruin his chances of learning more about this by insulting Flug with a grin. Tilting his head slightly to the side, the demon’s gaze held Flug’s steadily. “Why so dependant on it still? She was the only one making you wear it, was she not? She is  _dead_ now.”

“I  _know that._ ” As if Flug needed the reminder. Sighing, he held his head in his hands. “… Sorry… I’m… I don’t know what to tell you… I-I just…. I  _hated_ having to wear this all the time… b-but if I’d take it off, j-just to c-cool down, o-or if it r-ripped or anything–” The scientist’s words faltered for a moment, a fearful shudder rushing through him momentarily, “She just- S-She just  _made_ me  _need_ it. I-I c-can’t expect you t-to understand… St-Stress disorders are a h-human thing…” Slumping further down, Flug shook his head, voice now a whisper. “T-The bag’s for the better. A-At least like  _this_ I don’t h-have to s-see what she  _did_ to me.”

“To see what she did to you?” Blackhat repeated, curiosity piqued. Flug went rigid, and Blackhat could tell that he had regretted saying it almost instantly. “What did she do, Flug?”

Unable to muster up a response, Flug could only cast an empty, tired stare Blackhat’s way.

The doctor’s lack of an answer was almost as telling as if he said anything. Blackhat was no fool, he could guess as easily as anyone what his employee meant by that. After a long moment’s consideration, the demon stepped forward, now standing directly in front of Flug. Slowly, he reached a hand to the paper, lightly grazing his fingers along the edges, then paused. “…. May I?” He inquired quietly, eyes searching Flug’s for permission.

Honestly, Flug was surprised he hadn’t been scorned yet for his weakness, and the fact that Blackhat was even  _asking_ instead of just doing what he pleases was still something the doctor hadn’t gotten used to from him. Maybe it was that surprise that held back any protest. He gave his boss a slow nod.

At that, some tentacles slipped out of the eldritch’s back, closing the window curtains to darken the room. In all honestly, Blackhat’s quarters were probably dim enough for Flug’s eyes to bare, what with the thick, red-tinted windows and just all around dark surroundings, but the scientist wasn’t about to complain about more shade.

Once all curtains were drawn, Blackhat slowly lifted the bag off of Flug’s face, carefully placing it in the doctor’s hands, then turning all attention to the features of his skin. He held Flug’s head up by his chin, gently tilting it from side to side as he was looking him over.

The last time he had gotten a good look at his partner’s face, all his attention was focused on those mystifying eyes of his. The demon hadn’t been looking for any other subtle details. But now that he was, he could make out faint scarring along Flug’s skin, no doubt caused by childhood beatings. Lightly brushing his thumb along a particularly visible one just beneath his left eye, the demon frowned in deep thought. If Blackhat had to guess, he would say most of these were left by a belt, judging from that telling buckle-like shape… Perhaps something along the lines of an extension cord or kitchen utensil for some of the others.

Flug’s eyes very purposely avoided the demon’s. With every scar he found, the doctor shrunk down further, feeling more and more vulnerable and ashamed with each passing second. His grip on the bag tightened, and he inhaled deeply to try and keep his breathing under control.

“Hmm….” The demon mumbled under his breath, frown deepening. He hasn’t lived under a rock for all the years he’s coexisted with humans, he’s aware that things like this happen, just has never particularly  _cared_ , really. From what  _he’s_ observed, usually more than just the face was hit, wasn’t it? Though, the rest of Flug  _did_ appear human… it’s not farfetched to see why she would take out her anger on the most non-human part of him.

Brutalizing someone for simply being half monster? Yeesh. Even  _Blackhat_ could see the flaws in  _that_  logic.

Finally, Blackhat backed away again, but not before leaving a soft kiss on the scar beneath Flug’s eye, feeling a twitch of surprise from the doctor along with a momentary subtle blush. Back turned to his employee, Blackhat slowly strode over to the curtained window, tapping his cane in front of him with each step. He could hear the crumple of paper as Flug shakily pulled the bag back over his head.

“How unfortunate. Such embarrassment over something so admirable.”

“ _Admirable?_ ” He repeated, shocked and confused as to how on  _Earth_ Blackhat could even  _say_ that.

“Of course!” When Blackhat turned to face Flug again, his signature smile was faintly beginning to show. Whether or not he realized that was debatable. “Why,  _you_ look at those marks and think of nothing but the pain.  _I_ see trophies of a battle that  _you_ won. A lone child that emerged victorious against his opponent to still grow into a fine individual.” Grin widening slightly, the demon tilted his head. “It is impressive.”

“B-But I’m not– I-I-I just– How–!?” At first, Flug didn’t know how to respond. He was so prepared to be scorned for his patheticness, to be met with ridicule and an uncaring disregard for his struggles. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised, considering how close they’ve become in the past few months… but to be met with…  _praise_ , of all things? Part of him was relieved and heartwarmed that the demon was trying to support him. Part of him was angry that he was acting as though this was a  _positive_ thing. And part of him wanted to believe Blackhat, to believe that there was  _more_ to all this than just the  _suffering_. But he just couldn’t look past the shame. Overwhelmed with thoughts and emotion, Flug buried his face in his hands. “A-Are we even seeing the same  _person…!?_ ” There’s so much  _wrong_ with me…! I-I-I’m such a  _coward_ I can’t even  _function_ without this  _stupid bag–!_ “ He tried and failed to muffle a sob, not aware that the demon was again standing by his side until Blackhat’s hand was tentatively placed on his shoulder. Shaking his head, Flug stifled another sob. "I-I’m sorry… I know you’re trying to help… I-I just- I could never be  _thankful_ for what she  _did_ –!”

“No no no, I’m not saying you  _should_ be.” Blackhat replied immediately and with a firmness that made it clear that wasn’t the message he was trying to convey. “I’m saying that you shouldn’t have to be  _ashamed_ because of this.  _This_ …” Reaching beneath the bag, he lightly brushed a gloved hand over the scars again. “…is  _not_ shameful. This is  _proof_ of your  _strength_. You are  _stronger_ than what hurt you, what tried to  _kill_ this part of you.” He backed away again, putting his hands behind his back and standing tall. His eyes held a rare sincerity that Flug’s only seen a number of times he could count on one hand. “No, you should not hold  _any_ sort of gratitude for your attacker. You should hold it for  _yourself_. I have observed many humans that have gone through similar struggles and let it  _destroy_ them. Flug, your perseverance is  _impeccable_. And believe me when I say there is  _nothing wrong with you_. I only want you to  _see_ that.”

Silence.

Flug only stared at him, speechless. For a moment, Blackhat thought he may have said something wrong.

“…… Er….Flug….. I didn’t—  _Oof!_ ”

Without warning, the scientist shot out of his chair and clung on to Blackhat in a tight hug. He couldn’t say anything, couldn’t muster up any sort of reply, just held on tightly.

“Eeuugh…” Blackhat grimaced, mixed feelings about all the  _hugging_ today. Though, ever since Flug, the demon was actually finding he quite  _enjoys_ physical contact…. be  _damned_ if he admits it to anybody, though. Very tentatively, Blackhat gave his employee’s back an awkward couple of pats. “If you start  _crying_ again…”

“S-Sorry…” Flug muttered sheepishly, backing off and subconsciously rubbing underneath the goggles to hide how he was tearing up, “I-I-I just… I n-never…” Looking away, he whispered, “T-Thank you… I n-never realized h-how much I needed to hear that…”

Oh. So the demon  _did_ help. With a victorious smile, he purred, “My pleasure. Anything to relieve that undeserved hate for your monster side.” Blackhat walked over to the windows, returning the curtains to their original position. “Your mother made a terrible mistake to reject such a beautiful part of you.”

The scientist’s eyes went wide with astonishment. For someone who’s spent all his life taught to be humiliated of this side of himself, that it was unnatural and wrong, to  _hide_ it…. Even knowing Blackhat’s fascination with all things abnormal, even after all the consolation he was just given, it was  _still_ shocking to hear his monster half described as…  _anything_ even along the lines of  _beautiful_. All he could do was stare at the darkly-dressed man in bewilderment.

Blackhat was quick to notice, and flashed him a grin. “You look surprised.” He commented, returning his gaze out the window.

Flug was just as quick to avert his gaze, now staring at the far corner of the room as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. It took him a long time to find his voice again. “… Y-You know, I… honestly thought you’d have…  _understood_ her, in a way…”

“What?” Turning again to look at Flug, Blackhat’s voice was painted with confusion. “Why?”

“I-I mean…” Looking down again, Flug went back to nervously fiddling with his coat cuffs. His tone held hesitance, uncertainty, as if he felt bad for saying this out loud. “S-She hated my monster half… You hate my human half… I… I don’t know… It’s k-kind of the same… i-isn’t it…?”

Silence again took over the room.

Sneaking a glance at his boss, Flug saw an unmasked stupefied look on his face, as if the scientist’s words had actually  _jarred_ him somehow.

Hate? Is  _that_ what Flug thinks?

He wanted to deny it. But how could he? Blackhat has basically  _scorned_ his human tendencies before, he’s basically  _admitted_ that he holds Flug’s souleater half at a higher regard…

…. The demon couldn’t help but recall the frustration… when Flug had accused him of basing his value on species… In hindsight, now learning about the mother that did  _that very thing_ all his life, that anger was starting to become clear…

… He would have to choose his next words carefully.

With deliberate calculativeness in every move, the eldritch slowly walked back to his own chair, taking a seat. He leaned forward, elbows on desk, hands locked in front of his face as he coolly eyed the doctor. “…. Flug…. I do not hate you. Not any  _part_ of you.”

Flug didn’t say anything at first. As usual, he was fidgety and avoided eye contact. “B-But you–”

“Think of it this way,” Blackhat interrupted, placing his arms down on the desk. “I’m not human. Far from it, in fact. I have  _many_ tendencies that they do not, and a rather…” He snickered. “…  _eccentric_ personality in comparison to your 'norm’. Would you say otherwise?”

“Um… No, that… that’s accurate….?” Flug replied, wondering where he was going with this.

“Some of those tendencies get on your nerves, don’t they?” When Flug hesitated to respond, his boss chuckled darkly with amusement. “No need to deny it, doctor. I’d be more surprised if you said otherwise. I’m not  _that_ oblivious, you see.” He paused, and his smile faded briefly. While this little tangent was merely an example, there was a lingering worry of how the doctor may answer his next question. “… Now. Do you hate me?”

At that, Flug’s eyes shot wide once more. “Of course not!” He answered immediately, flabbergasted. There was no hesitance or uncertainty in  _that_ response.

Oh, thank goodness. Blackhat wasn’t entirely sure about that before, but he tried not to let the relief of hearing Flug’s answer show and continued on with his explanation. “Exactly… You see, there are human tendencies that I find  _annoying_ , yes. Aggravating to  _many_ extents, I can’t deny. But can I, in all honestly, say that I hate  _you_ in the  _slightest_ because of that?” His eyes narrowed very slightly. “… Surprisingly, no. I can’t explain it. But I simply can’t bring myself to  _actually_ _hate_ _you_.” Then his grin returned. “Funny, isn’t it?”

The doctor didn’t seem to find it as amusing. He looked touched by his boss’s words. Now part of him felt guilty for thinking otherwise, especially after all Blackhat’s done for him today  _alone_ …

Today… yes, this has just been…. such a comforting, enlightening conversation…. Would this demon  _ever_ stop surprising him….?

Blackhat went back to his desk, pulling some files out of a drawer and laying them out to go through, selecting one and holding it up to read. “Take the rest of the day off. Rest.” He ordered, voice suddenly filled with stoic professionalism as if everything today hadn’t even happened.

When Flug didn’t move, just stood there with the blankest of stares, Blackhat glanced over. “… You’re  _excused_ , doctor.”

“…A-Ah… Y-Yes, of course…. T-Thank you, sir….” Still dazed with confusion from the whole ordeal, Dr.Flug slowly wandered out of his boss’s quarters, casting him one last grateful glance before closing the door behind himself.

The eldritch watched him go, monotone, then returned his attention to the files.

Euchh. He had a sudden urge to wash his mouth out with bleach to get rid of the aftertaste of that sickeningly 'kind’ pep talk…

…. Despite that, he couldn’t help but let a small smile sneak across his face as the day played back in his mind.

Such a bother, what happened. Such an inconvenience.

And yet, thinking back on the end result, how much he learned about Flug, how much he had managed to impact the sad little scientist… for reasons Blackhat couldn’t quite comprehend, the day felt anything but wasted.

How strange.


End file.
